Finding Home
by No Sweeter Song
Summary: SERIES 2 FINALE SPOILERS! Abby's seeking comfort, and finds herself giving plenty of it out at the same time. A sleepless night between two friends who need each other more than ever.


SERIES 2 FINALE SPOILERS!

No idea why I've been wanting to write this so badly. It didn't even come out how I wanted it to. But I finally caved, rewatched the series 2 finale, and let it come out how it wanted to. And thus, here we are. Basically, this is just an exchange from the night Stephen died. Abby is looking for comfort and ends up giving some as well.

If I owned them, they'd have gotten together, um, right about here.

* * *

By the time she'd flipped over for the fourteenth time, the digital clock in the room read 3:45am. It should've been easy enough to fall asleep. God knew she was tired enough. Fighting for your life was typically a good way to get exhausted. But her brain wouldn't shut off. Things that were said, things that should have been said, things that never could be said. Flashes of memory ran through her mind, Stephen's eyes, that crooked smile, the way he'd occasionally look at her like she might actually have a chance.

It was finally more than Abby could stand. She climbed out of bed, rubbing her eyes as she padded barefoot to Connor's room. She really just wanted to see him. To know he was alive. She fully expected to see him sprawled across the bed in his usual fashion, face down, one arm dangling over the edge, lips slightly parted, hair a complete mess. The rise and fall of his chest, or back as the case may be, would be reassuring enough. Maybe then she could sleep.

But he wasn't in the bed. After the initial flood of panic, she saw him on the floor, sitting cross-legged, several small pieces of paper spread out in front of him. "Connor?" she mumbled, her voice drowsy.

To her surprise, he didn't look up. Usually, he'd leap to his feet, eager to please. At times, Connor acted more like a puppy than her friend. Desperate to earn her approval and hopeful that he'd finally do something right. But he continued to lay out the papers in front of him before nodding. "Come on in," he said, though he sounded like he didn't entirely mean it. In fairness, she didn't blame him. After the day's events, she sort of wanted to curl up alone, too. But not enough to want to stay away from him completely. He was the only one who could understand.

Abby perched on the edge of the bed, watching him. The cards in front of him looked like one of those little games he and his nerd friends liked to play. "Whatcha doing?" she asked, trying to sound lighthearted, as if it wasn't the middle of the night and both of them were wide awake.

"Organizing," he said easily enough. Which was interesting in itself, as Abby didn't even know he knew how to organize. Based on the clutter in his room, one would think he never bothered. "Clears my mind."

"Couldn't sleep either."

The words sat between them before Connor finally turned around to face her. He leaned with his back against the dresser, his legs out in front of him. She was reminded of the way they'd been imprisoned earlier that day. Or, well, the day before. He'd sat very much the same way. But instead of the layers of clothes he usually wore, and the fedora that had been propped on his head, Connor now simply sat in his plaid flannel pants and a plain white t-shirt. His hair was mussed, like he'd tried sleeping and failed, too. It was awfully cute, in that little boy way he sometimes had about him.

"No," he finally admitted, running his hand through that dark hair. "No, couldn't. Tried. Kept thinking about...all of it." He always tried to be so macho. Like she didn't know him as well as anyone. Better than most. Like she hadn't felt him tremble beside her as they'd stood in that room, the saber-tooth staring them down. Or worse, when it finally hit him what Caroline had done.

She slid down the bed, landing at his side with a less than graceful 'thump'. And she didn't care about grace. Not with Connor. He adored her regardless. Sure, she knew he'd been interested in the very beginning, and only because he thought she was fit. But now, even when she was pretty sure he still had less-than-friendly feelings for her, she trusted him completely. Even when he was dating creepy girls who tried to act like they were better than she was.

At first, it was silent between them. Abby rested her head on his shoulder as he turned back to the multi-coloured cards with the elaborate pictures. After a few minutes, he rested his cheek against her hair and sighed. Finally, she grinned. "How's the nose?" Well, she hadn't meant to hit him! He'd gotten in the way. Hardly her fault.

If she'd expected him to laugh about it, though, she was wrong. He simply shrugged his shoulders with a sigh. This wasn't her Connor. It scared her. She had to wonder if any of them would ever be the same again. "S'okay. You really, really shouldn't have done that."

"She hurt you. And Rex. No one messes with my roomies," she tried to defend, but the sound came out weak. Maybe she wasn't exactly herself, either. "I'm sorry about that, either way."

Connor merely shrugged again. "She had it coming. Just glad you didn't get hurt."

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Her arm was incredibly sore and if he could see under her shirt, which even in his current mood, she was sure he'd love to do, he'd see the massive amounts of bruises his once girlfriend had left behind. "I'm not saying it went well," she admitted. "But you should've seen the one who got away."

For all her attempts, Abby simply couldn't get him to crack a smile. Which was so unlike Connor that it really did scare her. She'd already lost Stephen. She couldn't stand losing Connor, too, even in the emotional sense.

"Connor," she began, but he interrupted her. Standing, he narrowed his eyes and dropped onto the bed. The cards sat, unorganized on the floor. She'd only ever seen him this distraught once before. When Tom had died.

"I'm fine, Abby. So take your cheering up routine somewhere else, will you? I'm going to bed. Maybe you ought to go." He reached over for the bedside lamp, flicking it off and dropping to the bed, rolling on to his side so he faced away from her.

Her brave, adventurous, chivalrous Connor, reduced to this. No. She wouldn't stand for it. For one, they needed him. And for another? She was hurting, too, and wouldn't be talked to like he was the only one dealing with this. They were in it together, whether he liked it or not.

She climbed into the bed next to him. At first, his muscles tensed, as if trying to keep away from her. But that was impossible with such a small space. Abby curled up next to him, folding her body to his. Screw his need to be tough. She needed him, dammit, and she wasn't stupid enough to think he didn't need her, too. "He's gone," she said softly, her words whispered into his shoulder blade. Her arm slipped around his waist, holding him close. Finally, after what felt like forever but his Yoda clock said it had only been a minute, she felt him relax. And then he began shaking and she simply gripped harder.

"It isn't fair," he said so quietly she had to strain to hear him even in the silence of his room at night. "Stephen never hurt anyone. It should've been Helen, dammit."

Abby closed her eyes and hid her face in the soft cotton of his shirt. "It shouldn't have been anyone," she challenged, but found herself gently rubbing his side with the hand wrapped around him. "That isn't what Cutter would've wanted, either. He tried to get them both out of there. He was going to himself, you know he was."

But she also knew how that would be little comfort to Connor. Cutter was like a father to them both. Losing him wouldn't have been any easier than losing Stephen was. "His last words were to us." Connor's words were like ice running through her as he reminded her of what Cutter had told them before he'd broken down. Jenny had moved to hold him and Abby had burst into tears. Connor had held her, much the way she was holding him now. It had to work both ways. If they were going to make it through this, they had to depend on each other. It was how the team had always worked. "How are we supposed to keep going without him? It's always been the four of us. And now?"

Before she could answer, he shifted to roll over. A fragment of a smile lit her face slightly as his dark brown eyes looked down into hers. The light Yoda shined on them was enough for her to make out his features. To her surprise, he reached to pull her to him, a sideways hug almost. And not in that leering way that Connor used to have. No, he was hurting. And he seemed to finally realize she was, too.

"We'll make it," she said softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. Already, they were both breathing more easily. Abby should have known. All she needed was to be held. And, apparently, to hold someone else. Or maybe not just any old someone else but this one. "It's what he'd want. For us to keep going."

Connor nodded, his hair tickling her nose. She smiled slightly, closing her eyes then and tucking her head under his chin. The scent of his soap mixed with their laundry detergent and somehow, it was a more intoxicating smell than any she could find in the men's fragrance department at Harvey Nichols. It both relaxed her and awakened her senses. "Connor..." she murmured, the absent way he was rubbing her back lulling her to sleep. "About Caroline..."

"Please don't," he protested, but she shook her head. "No. I just... She was a fool. I mean, I always thought so," because really, she had. "But... She didn't know a good thing when she had it. And for what it's worth, I think in the end, she really did care about you."

He didn't answer and she didn't blame him. No one knew how he'd been hurt by the betrayal. There he'd thought this beautiful, bright girl had fallen for him and instead, he'd gotten Caroline. The silence eased her into sleep, but she thought sure his lips touched the top of her head and she heard him whispering, "Oh, she did. She wouldn't have hated you so much if she didn't."


End file.
